


Gingerbread Missy

by Plethora



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29591148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plethora/pseuds/Plethora
Summary: Sleepy cuddles with Missy in a onesie.
Relationships: Missy (Doctor Who)/Reader, The Master (Doctor Who)/Reader
Kudos: 8





	Gingerbread Missy

**Author's Note:**

> The first of what I hope is many Christmas fics from me. I have a bunch more planned- if they ever cooperate and get written! Thanks to the MG server @isis-astarte-diana made for this idea.

You brought your legs up by your side, folding them underneath you as you repositioned yourself on the couch. Grabbing a decorative pillow to clutch as you waited for Missy to be done stoking the fire. The deer onesie you wore was soft and cozy against your bare skin. A content sleepy silence filling the room, well at least sleepy on your end. You doubted that Missy was tired. She never seemed to be tired.

Convincing Missy to wear a onesie had taken a lot of effort but it was worth the pleading and begging on your knees. Your heart was swelling with soft, fuzzy feelings. The night of cuddling you had to look forward to once she had finished with the fire keeping you from falling asleep. You were determined to stay awake until you had the chance to clutch Missy in your arms.

The gingerbread onesie she wore looked far better on her than it had any rights to look. It was loose and baggy. Almost as if she had thought she was taller than she really was when she bought it, or more likely stole it. Now that you were thinking about it, it was incredibly likely that she really did think she was taller than she really was. She was always wearing heels. You imagined having different bodies over the years would do that to a person’s mental image of themselves. She likely still surprised herself by looking like a woman even though she had tried to embrace the transition with dresses, makeup, and a new title. Either way, baggy onesie and all, she looked delicious. 

You were so distracted by your sleepy thoughts rambling away inside of your head that you almost didn’t notice when she began to leave the fireplace to join you. You looked up at her, ignoring the newly stoked fire completely in favor of her eyes. They were lit up in mirthful joy at your sleepy state.

“About to fall asleep, little fawn?”

“Mhm,” you made grabby hands at her to try and coaks her closer to you again.

You wanted to enjoy some cuddles before you lost your fight against sleeping.

Missy joined you on the couch, yanking you from your curled up position into her arms. You fell into her shoulder. Almost not bothering to reposition yourself until she was guiding your limbs into a different, more comfortable, position.

You laughed, she always needed to be in control. You nuzzled in close, the soft fuzz of the onesie reminding you of the soft blankets she often cocooned you in when it was cold on the TARDIS. Always tucking you in with a teasing barb about how fragile you were and how she would smother you to death if you caught a cold from the TARDIS’ environment.

Arms wrapping slowly around her waist. Pleased exhales of breath conveying your content state, you were too tired to vocalize at this exact moment. Humming would be too much effort. Instead- for the moment- you let your body speak for you. Melting into a human puddle of happiness and affection.

Being tired always made your mental filter melt away. It often got you in trouble with Missy for ‘being naughty’. What you wanted to do more than anything- right now- was nibble on Missy. In a fully awake and aware state of mind you would recognize this as a terrible idea. But you were sleepy and giddy. So the idea seemed enticing with any consequences slipping away from the forefront of your mind.

Without a second thought, you bit down harshly on Missy’s shoulder.

“Did you just bite me,” her tone was dark and dangerous. Your sleepy mind too tired to truly register the full extent of the position you had placed yourself in. “Before you try to answer that was rhetorical, you very naughty girl.”

“You’re a gingerbread Missy, which makes you a yummy snack,” you tried to justify yourself.

"You’re so tired you’ve gone insane, haven’t you. Surprisingly, it’s almost adorable. I suggest that you resist the urge to keep nibbling on me or I will be very cross with you.”

Pulling away from Missy you released her from your embrace. Choosing instead to start fiddling with the buttons to the onesie that looked like gumdrops.

“Okay, Missy. Imma steal your gumdrop buttons instead now.”

You looked up at her with sleepy mischief in your eyes.

“An awful lot of begging to get me into this fuzzy monstrosity just to want it off of me.” 

Missy was laughing at your actions, at your sleepy determination to get your hands underneath her onesie. You had successfully been cute enough to avoid the consequences. You whined as she laughed at you. She knew that you didn’t really want the onesie to come off. You just wanted to, somewhat join her in her onesie to be closer to her. You could never be close enough to her when you were sleepy and needed affection.

“Are you going to properly eat little ol’ gingerbread me?” Her tone was so suggestive, you could practically hear her eyebrows wiggling.

“I’m too tired to do a good job. Tomorrow I promise.”

“Well I suppose I can’t have you falling asleep and leaving me frustratingly horny.”

Your hands slid into her onesie. Wrapping around her waist before continuing further down. Gripping her ass and giving a nice, cheeky squeeze. Pressing a kiss in between her breasts before leaning against one as a pillow. Listening to her hearts beat. Your upper body practically inside the onesie with Missy. Her gingerbread flesh your blanket.

“You might as well climb inside the onesie with me and ride my strap with how deep into me you’re trying to burrow.”

“You don’t have a strap on right now Missy.”

Holding you tighter to herself Missy responded. You could hear the vibrations her words made as she spoke. Lulling you to sleep like a lullaby.

“Well, I certainly wish I had one! You are all sleepy and touch-starved. Seeking any affection I’d bestow upon you. You’d be so cute in the morning all sore from a night of being filled up, nice, and full by me. Alas, we’ll both have to settle for some nice and cozy cuddles.”

Missy looked fondly down at you, affectionately rolling her eyes. Your breathing was even, eyes closed, and grip slightly loosened. Of course, you would fall asleep when she was making sexual overtures. She would just have to settle for holding you to your sleepy promise of oral tomorrow. Perhaps she would repeat herself if it seemed likely to fluster you. She missed seeing your rosy cheeks when you were tired like this and nothing embarrassed you.

Resting her chin on top of your head Missy closed her own eyes. A few hours of sleep, while she felt content with you in her lap, wouldn’t hurt.


End file.
